This bebe is two years old and has a mind of her own. She has a POV on all things, including how we pronounce words, what we should eat, where we should sit, and more recently, what she should wear. This extends to everything from her pajamas, to her socks, to her panties (#pottytraining), to the bow in her hair.

And to the shoes – THE SHOES. The other day I was breaking down a shoe box for recycling when she dashes over to me and squeals, “Mama, you got me new shoes?!”

I’ve created a monster (and sidekick).

P.S. One of my more humbling sartorial pursuits as of late was this jumpsuit.

I went to her closet to pick out her outfit today and saw this romper hanging there. Just for fun, I thought I’d see if it still fits. And it does(ish).

This matters to me because bebe has changed so much since she last wore it. I keep a journal, and as I documented some recent milestones last night, I felt overcome by the fact that she’s not an infant anymore.

That she fits into this wee romper — my little one who’s always been in the 99th percentile for just about everything — means something to me, and it’s that she’s still my baby girl.